Freedom Is a High Price to Pay
by Etaine M
Summary: Aideen had what most thought was the perfect life as a beautiful, pampered noble. But on the day of the Battlefeast, everything changed forever. Amidst betrayal and upheaval, this spoiled princess must find her way in a new sort of world, and somehow help to save it from almost certain destruction. Some AU. My first fanfic - please R&R!
1. Responsibility & Rebellion

**Authors Note**: The wonderful Dragon Age characters and elements involved in this story belong to Bioware.

On a side note, I read that the Noble Origin Story in based on Ireland/Scotland and that most names used are Gaelic, including the default male PC name. So I looked up Gaelic names for women and liked Aideen because it means "fire", I felt that fit her personality and is somewhat similar to the male PC name.

Updated 9.25.2012 and beta'd by the wonderful Eve Hawke

* * *

Life is not fair. Sometimes dreams do not come true.

Sometimes you're not the hero in the story of your life,

and sometimes - people die before they're supposed to.

Life is not fair; but fair has nothing to do with who you are inside,

what you dream about, who you love, and what you stand for.

Life cannot touch that... war cannot touch that.

**~ LXD "Robot Lovestory"**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

* * *

Aideen stirred as the faint streaks of dawn crept through her bedroom window. A sigh of frustration escaped her lips. She'd been dreading this day for weeks, and now it was officially upon her.

Tossing the covers back, she climbed out of bed and shivered as her bare feet hit the cold stone floor. Grabbing the robe draped over her chair, she donned it over her nightdress, her mind already racing as she planned her escape. She was desperate to garner just a few more hours of freedom before succumbing to the formalities of the day – formalities that threatened to smother her very soul.

Today was the Battlefeast in honor of her father and brother as they prepared to ride south in service of the king against the blight. Banns from Dragon's Peak, Amaranthine City, Oswin, Waking Sea and West Hill would all be in attendance with their sons.

Her father had been particularly pleased to hear that Arl Wulff of West Hills would be bringing his eldest son, Ronan, and she could only assume that Arl Howe... she shuddered – this time not from the cold. Howe's wife had died giving birth to his youngest son, leaving him free to show special interest in Aideen from the moment she'd began developing into womanhood. No, Howe would no doubt be leaving his son at home and making her worst nightmares come true. She could only hope, despite his friendship with Howe, her father would protect her from such a proposal.

Either way, today was the day. She had been on display long enough and it was now time to pick a husband, while her father and brother took up the banner of House Cousland and ran off to war.

Padding silently over to the window, she pulled back the flowing curtains, leaned her forehead on the pane and starred with longing at the Waking Sea. She loved her family and her home, deeply, but today she wanted nothing more than to drift away, take a boat and let it carry her over the sea to someplace far from here.

Life had gotten so complicated! She'd turned eighteen last month and with that, everything had changed. She was daughter to Bryce Cousland, Teyrn of Highever, with both influence and power second only to that of the king himself.

Loghain Mac Tir, father-in-law to Ferelden's monarch and the only other teyrn left in Ferelden today, never one to miss an opportunity, had been quick to secure the marriage of his only daughter Anora with Cailan when they were just children. Expectations were high in the noble realm for advantageous marriages, and now that pressure weighed heavily on Aideen's shoulders.

She had blossomed into a beauty, which to her was more of a curse than a blessing; it quickly became known throughout Ferelden and only encouraged the land's arls and banns as they clamored to get an audience for their sons.

_Ugh! _Marriage… to some spoiled, pompous ass with soft hands, accustomed to the high life – could there be a worse fate?

Few understood her feelings of turmoil over the matter. After all, she was daughter to one of the most powerful nobles in Ferelden! Growing up in Castle Highever, she was well accustomed to the high life herself and should be used to such expectations. However, those who knew her best understood that in her heart, she wanted none of these things.

The closer she got to the age of eighteen, the more aware she became that this day was coming. For the last four years she had accompanied her family to the yearly Landsmeet, and though it was initially exciting to experience new places and people, she soon realized that banns and arls alike brought their children of proper age to the Landsmeet in hopes of arranging a marriage. The older she got, the more it felt like she was being _paraded _for noble sons to gawk at.

A single tear slid down Aideen's cheek and plopped on the stone ledge below her window. No matter how hard she tried, she could not imagine adjusting to this new life before her. She was far better suited to be riding off to war beside her father and brother than planning a wedding to some dim-wit who wouldn't know the pointy end of a dagger if he sat on it. How could she ever learn to like one of these noble snobs after spending so much time with...well…_men_?

No, she needed someone like her father. Someone strong, disciplined, and well-trained in combat. She had grown up that way; how could her parents honestly expect her to adjust to a life where all that was required of her was to run a household and provide children?

Unlike the arls and banns of the land, teyrns were war leaders, and though Loghain held the title of famed Ferelden war hero, Bryce Cousland was no exception. Her father and older brother Fergus trained daily with the castle knights in combat, and even her mother was said to be quite the battle maiden in her day.

Aideen had trained in combat since the tender age of six, and was now considered quite the master herself. She was smart, having relished her tutelage with Brother Aldous and spent many hours in the library poring over the history and legends of the land. As a result, she was strategic and cunning in combat, developing her own unique fighting style against the brute strength of the men. She knew how and when to incapacitate opponents using her keen eye for weak spots, and despite her lack of male muscular strength, she was deadly with a pair of daggers.

Having to fight in closer proximity with shortened blades, she'd become extremely acrobatic in her approach. She utilized a variety of jumps, kicks, and climbing on whatever she had to in order to get the drop on her target. None had quite been able to best her fighting style yet, and it pleased her to know that she shocked people when they saw her sparring for the first time. If she had it her way, beauty wouldn't be the only thing she was known for!

Yes, she needed a man who could challenge her, protect her, and most of all... keep up with her.

When she complained about it to her parents, her father burst out laughing_, _turning to her mother. "She has a point love. Those dolts will not have the faintest clue about what to do with her!"

Mother had leveled him a controlled stare, drawing up to her full five feet and four inches, thumping his chest with a pointed finger. "It's not funny Bryce! You're the one responsible for this; training her with the men. We're already asking her to choose a husband based on duty rather than love, you're just further ruined her chances of _ever_ finding happiness in marriage."

Her father's mirth had diminished at her mother's reproof, his fingers reaching out, tenderly stroking the stubborn set of her jaw before migrating down to squeeze her hand. "You don't believe our children will be as happy in their marriages as we are? Fergus has found love in his marriage and Ai –"

"Bryce, honestly, Oriana and I married above our station – we married _men_! I wish nothing less for our daughter, but you yourself just described Aideen's options as 'dolts', and that matter only worsens when you contribute the fact you've trained her to the point… she only emasculates them further." She'd thrown her hands up in frustration, stomped over to Aideen and pulled her into a motherly embrace. Aideen appreciated her mother's understanding; that the future was going to be hard for her spirited daughter. She also loved the fact she held a special place in her father's heart, despite his man's perspective on matters, but his love did not change a thing. She would not find true love as her parents had or marry the man of her dreams like Oriana.

Aideen heaved a sigh and turned from the window. How she would make it through this day she did _not _know, but at this early hour she still had some time to herself. She intended to make the most of it.

Dropping the robe, she scurried over to her wardrobe and pulled out her black leather leggings, knee-high black strap boots, a loose cap-sleeved royal blue shirt, and a black leather corset with plating. Tugging the shirt over her head, she slipped into her leggings, tucking the shirt in before strapping on the corset and buckling the front. Perching on the edge of her bed, she tugged her boots on, and strapped her small but precious dragonbone blade to her right thigh.

Standing before the mirror, she swept her long black hair into a loose braid before wrapping the end and tying it off with a matching black leather thong. The sunlight caught in her hair as she turned her head and she smiled, touching the deep red highlights so like the red of her brother's hair.

While Fergus had inherited their father's deep red hue and green eyes, she'd acquired their mother's once rich black locks, which stood out in stark contrast to her fair skin and brilliant blue eyes. Aideen's eyes had come from her Orlesian grandfather, as her mother's eyes were more of a warm brown color.

Her mother would often cup her face with misty eyes and a soft smile on her lips, saying "Your eyes are so beautiful, my dear. You are such a precious reminder of my father."

Aideen smiled at the memory. Yes, she loved her family, and she would do _anything_ for them _- _even if it meant embracing the miserable future set before her. Her smile faltered as she ran her hands lovingly down the firm, shapely leather of her corset. Perhaps this morning would be the last time she'd ever wear this outfit.

She put on her matching leather gloves and turned for one last inspection in the mirror. Satisfied with her attire, Aideen grabbed a small flat pouch from the hook by her door. Strapping it to her left thigh, she opened her door and disappeared down the hall.

* * *

Careful to avoid the guards, Aideen picked her way through the castle, melting from one shadow into the next until she reached the kitchen. Just as she expected, Kane, her mabari hound, was sitting patiently in front of the door with a positively _mischievous_look on his face. Waiting for breakfast preparations to begin so he could torture Nan into giving him scraps, no doubt.

Crouching down before the hound, she stroked his massive head while lifting his chin to look him in the eye. "Not today my friend! How would you like to go outside the castle and catch a fat rabbit instead?"

Kane tipped his head in consideration of the proposal, but then turned to her with concern in his eyes and a nervous whine.

"Hmph, I know it's a bad idea. It's never stopped us before…why should today be any different!" Realizing her voice had risen significantly, she glanced around before crouching lower and giving a fierce whisper. "Fine! But I'm going with or without you. Make your choice!"

Kane nuzzled her cheek and placed a protective paw on her knee, as if saying he would never allow her to venture outside the castle walls alone. Mabari were extremely intelligent, but above that, they were loyal. They chose their own masters, and everyone had been shocked when Kane, initially intended as a gift for her brother Fergus, had immediately taken to Aideen instead.

"Good boy." Aideen stood, pulled a mabari crunch from the pouch strapped to her thigh and tossed it to Kane.

Jumping, Kane snatched the treat midair before spinning and disappearing down the hall. Shaking her head, Aideen exhaled an exasperated sigh as she too, disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

Ser Gilmore watched a dark figure from his post on the northeast castle wall, a muscle working in his jaw. He couldn't believe his eyes! She was pulling a stunt like this…at a time like…_today_of all days!

He watched as Aideen crept out the servant's door next to the stables and dashed to a secret tunnel leading to the wild brush beyond the castle walls. She was wearing her usual stealthy attire of choice for when she wished to disappear or... _drive a man completely mad_, he thought wryly.  
Sighing, Gilmore averted his gaze, knowing she would check for witnesses before making her escape, and he needed the element of surprise if he was going to be successful in his pursuit.

As soon as she was gone, he hurried down to the courtyard, removing his heavy armor as he went. Stopping in the stables, he deposited the armor in an empty corner stall before rounding up a pair of dark leather pants and a loose open-necked shirt. He sheathed his sword at his back in a harness that buckled across his chest, swapping out his shield for a large dagger he could strap to his belt. Finally, he slipped into a pair of light leather boots and headed in the direction he knew she'd gone.


	2. Beautiful Women Alone in the Countryside

**A/N **Revised on 9.25.2012

* * *

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Aideen meandered down her favorite path, breathing deeply of the fresh sea air, stopping occasionally to collect various herbs or roots and storing them in her pouch for later. She'd found old books in an obscure section of the library detailing how to make poisonous tinctures that, from time to time, she had been known to use on her blades – when the situation was right. She never created or used anything deadly, but it was one more trick up her sleeve when it came to her slightly more unsportsmanlike fighting style.

Kane ran some distance ahead, having caught an unfortunate creature's scent, but never strayed far from his mistress when out in the wild, uninhabited north side of the Castle.

Aideen crouched, having found a deathroot plant, but gasped when a muscular arm snaked around her. In the same moment, a hand violently clamped down on her chin like a vice and wrenched her head back, exposing her throat. Panic overtook her as she recognized the distinct sensation of a blade scraping against the vulnerable skin of her neck.

She groped frantically at the hand holding the blade, a terrified whimper escaping her lips. Her attacker held firm, giving her a shake as if to prove she was nothing more than a rag doll.

She fought to calm her mind and formulate a plan of action. She was not accustomed to people sneaking up on her like this! Then again… she had never really experienced this kind of scenario, had she? The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She _always _knew where her opponent was when sparring. With the men in training, she'd never let them this close, but now…oh, how foolish she had been, thinking she was nearly invincible with her training. What about fighting in real situations…

A playful _woof _caught Aideen's attention and she remembered Kane was out here with her. Her vision was limited - she strained against the hand forcing her head back, catching sight of her mabari out the corner of her eye. He was standing just a few feet away and…wagging his tail, of all things!

Her brain snapped to full attention now; there was only one person in all of Highever that could get away with putting a knife to her neck in front of Kane. It was Rory!

Furious and utterly relieved at the same time, she drew a deep breath knowing she was no longer in real danger, and reached for the blade sheathed on her right thigh.

"This is not a game Aid!" He growled low in her ear, positively shaking with anger. "I could have slit your throat five times over by the time that mutt of yours arrived."  
Offended, Kane lowered his head, teeth bared in a menacing snarl as he stepped towards Gilmore.

"Oh, I _know_, I'd be dead for doing such a thing... but that's not the point Kane. And you know it!" Gilmore relaxed his hold, but determined to make his point, refused to let her go just yet.

Kane lay his head at Gilmore's feet, whining sadly as he placed an impressive paw over his nose in shame. Gilmore looked down at the faithful companion with pity in his eyes. "I apologize for my choice of words. I did not mean to call you a mutt. I was just..." Gilmore faltered, his voice taking on a hard edge. "You can't always protect her, Kane!" Gilmore hung his head, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Neither of us can."

Aideen's heart tugged at the dejected tone in Gilmore's voice. "Alright Rory, lesson learned." She reached up tenderly, caressing the hand holding the blade to her throat.

"Is it? And... stop that!" He dropped the blade, giving her a light push away. He planted his feet, hands on hips, glaring his look of disapproval.

They had been pretty much inseparable as children, playmates and best friends, but her parents had taken notice of the relationship as they got older and feelings had started to change. She was the teyrn's daughter, and Ser Gilmore was _not_ for her.

She'd no longer been allowed to spend time alone with Rory, and they were watched closely in public to ensure no boundaries were crossed. A special connection, however, had already developed, and despite their romantic exploration being nipped in the bud, they still cared deeply for each other.

"It's Ser Gilmore." He huffed in frustration. "And you know better than to be out here alone. Yet, you still do it! You have this idea that you're ready for the real world - you're _not_, Aideen!"

The sting of the reprimand flared her temper. Gilmore rarely riled her so easily, but between the imminent Battlefeast, the attack and now his scolding her like a child - her patience was wearing thin.

"I'm not a helpless damsel, Ser Gilmore," she snapped. "I've had just as much training as you have. And don't you think it was a little unfair - stalking me like some common thug, and then _daring _to put a knife to my throat?" Eyes narrowing, she crossed her arms, assuming a haughty air. "And you're the one being inappropriate. Calling me 'Aid'? What would father say?" Annoyed she might be, but the opportunity to tease Rory was more fun than she was willing to forgo.

"My lady...," Gilmore offered, picking his words carefully. "Your lineage alone makes you a target, but your beauty... it entreats men, even men who know better, to take advantage. I only sought to impress this upon you," he finished lamely.

A gleam, wicked as sin, lit in her eye. Sauntering over to him, she trailed a playful finger down his chest, exposed by the open neck of his shirt. "So, you think I'm beautiful?"

Losing all pretense, Gilmore crumbled under her advance, pleading, "Aid, don't tease me like this."

Curling her delicate fingers into the loose fabric, she tugged him close, tilting her head and meeting his gaze with purpose. "What makes you think I'm teasing?"

A groan escaped his lips, and he shut his eyes as if to block her out. "Please don't! I can't... handle this." He cupped her face, resting his forehead to hers and exhaling slowly. "Not today."

Her eyes softened as she tentatively placed her hands over his. "Why can't..." she caught herself. Now she really was acting like a child. Despite the restriction, they had always found ways over the years to steal small moments together, unable to develop the relationship further, but somehow keeping it alive just the same. She had been so caught up in her own feelings about today, she had spared little thought for how he must be feeling about her finally finding a husband. "I apologize, Rory. I didn't mean to tease... I really _do _care for you, but I understand that doesn't make it any better."

She pulled his hands down to her lips, gently kissing them before looking back up into his tormented face. "My friend..." she stressed the words. "Not one of those noble snobs will be half the man you are. I wish things could be different." How she meant it! "Please forgive my foolishness and let's not leave things like this? I can barely face today as it is."

Gilmore searched her face for a moment before leaning down to capture her lips in a wistful kiss. It was a gift, a parting token of his devotion. They would never be together, but he'd be there for her, in whatever way he could be. She wrapped her arms around him, enjoying the familiar warmth that spread through her and tingled in her toes.

Ending the kiss, Gilmore nuzzled her nose playfully with his. "You'd best return to the castle, Lady Cousland, before I'm further convinced to continue my lesson on what men do to beautiful young women found alone in the countryside."

* * *

Duncan was distracted as he paced the courtyard, pausing occasionally to survey the busy activity around him. Castle Highever was in full swing - militia forces sent by banns pledged to the Cousland banner were gathering, and the teyrn's sworn knights worked diligently to ready the contingents to march. Frenzied servants dodged the soldiers as they rushed to accommodate nobles arriving from all over northern Ferelden, while others frantically readied for the Battlefeast festivities.

Duncan wearily massaged his forehead as he surveyed the courtyard yet again for signs of Ser Gilmore. As Warden Commander, he desperately needed at least one more recruits before heading back to Ostagar. Ser Gilmore was the best and most feasible prospect; however, there was one other possibility here that intrigued him.

Though he'd allowed little thought on the matter up to this point, he now found himself pondering the likelihood of Bryce Cousland's inexperienced daughter living up to the impressive qualities both her father and older brother were widely known for. There were not many women among Grey Wardens, but if young Lady Cousland lived up to her family reputation, she could be a worthwhile asset.

He canvassed the courtyard for the knight once more, pushing further contemplation of the teyrn's daughter aside. It was impractical to assume Bryce would even consider letting her join the Grey Wardens when both he and his son were already committed to fight alongside King Cailan.

_No_, he thought, _nothing short of the Right of Conscription will convince Bryce to give up his precious daughter_, and Duncan certainly didn't feel like attempting to diplomatically broach such a delicate matter. He worked hard to find his recruits without ruffling too many feathers; the last thing he needed was to upset someone with power and position when the Grey Wardens were still so unpopular in Ferelden.

Ser Gilmore was guaranteed to be a skilled warrior; having trained under a man like Bryce from an early age, Duncan felt confident he would prove to be a valuable recruit. His interest in Lady Cousland was based solely on rumor; he was doubtful he would get any sort of demonstration of her supposed skill. Impatience getting the better of him, he stalked towards the stables, thinking his time would be better spent cleaning up now and speaking with the knight later.

Suddenly, Ser Gilmore burst through the stable door, and darted over to stand before the Warden Commander, puffing to catch his breath.

"I beg your pardon commander; I was told you wanted to speak with me?" he asked, throwing an inadvertent glance at the drainage tunnel behind him. Duncan's gaze immediately followed, his eyes widening in surprise as the dark from of a rogue effortlessly emerged from the small tube. Instantly suspicious, he drew the dagger from his belt, approaching the trespasser, but halting when they made eye contact.

Shocked, he stared into the captivating blue eyes of a woman. Duncan quickly sheathed his dagger, not only discerning how young she was, but instantly recognizing - despite her unusual attire - the resemblance to Teyrna Eleanor was unmistakable.

She paused, distressed at being discovered, and eyed the crowd that separated her from the castle. She cast Gilmore a nervous look before turning to maneuver through the bustling mass.

Duncan watched her go, impressed. It was hard to not be; she exuded elegance as she avoided discovery, but it was the skill displayed at the castle wall that really caught his attention.

She took off, sprinting to a corner where the castle and courtyard walls met. He stared, dumbfounded, as she used her momentum, leaping diagonally from wall to wall until she reached a ledge almost twenty feet high.

As if that was not impressive enough, she hooked her leg on the ledge, pulled herself up and vaulted to a banner pole hanging a dangerous three stories above the courtyard below. Firmly gripping the pole, she arched in perfect form, swinging full circle around the bar before flipping forward to another shelf protruding from one of the castle towers. She came up short, one hand slipping and leaving her to dangle precariously from the other. Duncan felt Gilmore shift beside him, no doubt overwhelmed with concern that she would fall to her death. He needn't have worried - she calmly regained her grip and hoisted herself up. She scaled the tower wall with precision, and upon reaching a window halfway to the top, she stabilized, pushed the window open, and slid through feet first. The girl spun back to peer out of the window, her eyes connecting with Ser Gilmore's meaningfully before she disappeared into the darkness of the castle.

Smiling briefly, Duncan let go a sigh of relief, not realizing that - just as the knight beside him - he'd been holding his breath through the outrageous display. "So..." He raised a quizzical eyebrow at Ser Gilmore. "You've managed to fall in love with a noble?"

Gilmore squirmed at the sarcastic comment, eyes downcast, watching the end of his boot as it dug at the ground. "Um… not exactly." Uncomfortable, he lifted his eyes and swallowed hard, eventually offering, "It's complicated."

"I see." Duncan replied, turning back to contemplate the empty window, his wise countenance hiding nothing of the fact that he understood _entirely_ why it was so complicated, and now he also knew _exactly _who the mysterious rogue was.

_Indeed_, he thought, _she's her father's daughter after all_. Not a warrior, no, but skilled none the less.

Perhaps he would attempt to broach the subject with Bryce after all; although something told him the teyrn would be even happier to part with Ser Gilmore than Duncan had originally thought. Given the new light shed on the situation, he had no doubt the teyrn was unhappy with the emotional connection he'd just observed.

* * *

Aideen barged through her bedroom door and skidded to a halt, practically running over her Orlesian lady-in-waiting, Lilly.

She fidgeted with her outfit; the encounter with Rory having kept her. She'd missed the opportunity to change, and the chastising look on Lilly's face said it all. She was in trouble.

"Lilly, I beg you, don't speak of this to mother." Aideen clutched Lilly's hands to her chest, pleading for reprieve. "It was just one last time. I promise, I will _not _do it again!"

Lilly looked her over from head to toe, shaking her head in disappointment, and with a snap of her fingers an elven servant scurried into the room. With a wave of Lilly's hand, the servant began to undress Aideen as Lilly marched to her closet and set about picking her outfit for the day.

Aideen squeezed her eyes shut, hiding her distress, and caressed the outfit unceremoniously being stripped from her body. It felt symbolic; things that comforted and defined her were being _taken away, _replaced by a lifestyle she struggled to embrace.

"Miss Lilly?" The servant held the roguish outfit up for Lilly's judgment.

Aideen's eyes flew open, concerned by what the response would be. While Lilly had seemed to agree not to tell her mother about her uncivilized behavior, she wasn't so naive to believe there wouldn't be _some _form of punishment.

With a dainty wrinkle of her nose, Lilly turned to hold Aideen's gaze with cold unyielding eyes. "Burn it."

"No!" Aideen's throat constricted. She advanced on the retreating servant, reaching for the outfit. "Lilly, please!"

"Hush girl! You must pay the price, or you will never learn." Her accent was more pronounced when angry, but Aideen barely noticed the beauty of it, so miserable over her loss. Lilly spun her from the servant, tugging at her sweaty small clothes with disgust. "Burn these too. New lace ones arrived from Orlais, just this morning."

"Ooh-la-la!" came Oriana's excited voice as she floated into the room, dressed in her Antivan finest, and lovingly hugged Aideen's dejected form. Abandoning the hug, almost before it even started, she grimaced. "Oh , your skin is sticky and dirty, dear sister. What on earth have you been up to?"

Aideen ducked her head. Flustered, she picked at the dirt under her fingernails. "I… went for a little stroll."

Oriana arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, but receiving no response, shrugged and joined Lilly at the closet. "She was to be ready an hour ago; we need something breathtaking! She needs to get down there and turn some heads."

Lilly nodded her agreement as the two women analyzed Aideen's options, deciding on an ivory dress with lace trim and blue accents to complement her eyes.

Lilly saw her bathed, scented with some exotic perfume imported from Maker knew where, and dressed in her new lace small clothes. Oriana curled her ebony locks, twisting a few sections back and fastening them with sapphire encrusted combs – gifts from her father.

Finally, the servant helped her don the ivory gown; careful to not muss her hair. Pleased with the outcome, Oriana gasped, clapping her hands with delight.  
Aideen tentatively moved to study herself in the mirror hanging near her door, and felt the urge to do a twirl. It wasn't as if she hated the finer things in life, just the formality and constriction that came with them.

Oriana hugged her freely now and Aideen smiled despite her earlier anxiety. Studying her reflection, she thanked Oriana for styling her hair so beautifully.

"Alright pretty girl, your future husband waits!" Oriana squeezed Aideen's hand, eyes sparkling, and rushed out the door.

Her heart sank; it was time.


	3. Battlefeast

**A/N **Sorry it has taken me so long to get this chapter posted, but I found myself a beta and revised/added to chapters 1 & 2. Fortunately we are only three chapters in, so it shouldn't be too bad to go back and re-read those two chapters before moving on with this one. Chapter 2 especially had a significant portion of story added to it. Thank you so much for reading my story and I hope you like the changes and the new chapter. Please R&R and let me know what you think :)

beta'd by the awesome Eve Hawke

* * *

**Chapter 3**

* * *

She'd only made it halfway to the main floor when Rory cornered her in a hallway near the kitchen. Kane was with him, muzzle covered in blood, prancing about and barking. Jumping back, she let out a squeal as Kane advanced with excitement – dirty paws threatening to smear her gown.

Gilmore launched forward, catching his collar. "I'm sorry my lady!"

Breathing a sigh of relief, she crouched in front of her hound, who continued to bark for her attention. "Shh, you silly dog. What have you done this time?" Pinching her nose, she waved at the air as she stood and danced away. "Oh, Maker's breath, you two reek!"

"He got into the larder. Nan was threatening to quit, and I was sent to fetch him as you—"

Gilmore's voice, having thickened slightly, dropped off as he took in her appearance. She made a slow turn, knowing the dress hugged all the right curves and she wanted to give him the full benefit. Without looking away, he leaned close to Kane's ear, ordering him to stay out of the kitchen and go to her room.

Kane cocked his head, assessing first her and then Rory. A knowing twinkle gleamed in his eye as he gave a happy _whuff _and loped obediently down the hall.

_Pff, _Aideen thought. _If only my parents could be so happy about my relationship with Rory._

Looking back at the knight, her eyes widened as she held up a hand to halt his advance. A shiver traveled up her spine. Recognizing the look in his eye, she wanted nothing more than to encourage his advance; but he too was covered in blood and would ruin her dress.

"Rory, stop – look at you! What on _earth _happened in the larder?"

A wry expression lit his face. "Believe it or not, Kane was _defending _the larder. From rats!" Catching the look on her face, he quickly continued. "No. Not the cute kind you're constantly adopting as pets. These would make you squeal, just like you did a minute ago." Looking down, he scraped the blood and grime off one foot with the other.

"Ugh," she replied, clutching her mouth as she saw the oversized viscera, far too large for a normal rat, still speckling his boots. "Rory stop! You're going to make me sick."

"This from the fierce girl I found romping around the countryside! One minute it's 'I'm cutthroat Aideen'," he whipped a dagger out and struck a threatening pose before switching to his best version of a girly pose. "Then all of the sudden it's, 'I'm pretty princess Aideen'." A devilish grin spread across his face as he approached her, hands stretched out in mock threat.

Darting away, she shrieked again in protest. "Rory! Go clean up. You're going to make me all gross."

"I suppose, but it's just too much fun making you scream," he chuckled.

"I see." She leveled him with a cool stare. "Too bad you're having so much fun. Had you taken the time to clean up, I'd be doing the opposite of running away." She paused, letting that sink in before boldly adding, "Perhaps you'd have me screaming for a different reason entirely."

She smirked with satisfaction. All traces of mirth gone, Rory's mouth hung open, eyes reflecting a mixture of shock and desire. She left him with that, swinging her hips ever so slightly as she went.

* * *

The rest of the day passed, painfully slow; the only highlight being Fergus and Rory battling for champion of the Battlefeast tournament. Fergus won, of course, but Rory was Highever's finest outside her family and gave Fergus a good fight.

Aideen attempted to overlook Duncan's interest in Rory's showing at the tournament, but failed as the reality of him taking her knight away became undeniable.

Earlier, she'd been introduced to the Warden Commander. She'd suffered a moment of concern when she realized it was he who'd seen her morning's escapade; would he reveal her? But then he'd shocked her by expressing interest in her as a recruit instead. Obviously, her father had shut the man down immediately. Duncan then overwhelmed her even more by steering his efforts toward Rory.

Her mind tried to rationalize – it was for the best. Seeing one another on a regular basis only made it harder to fight their feelings. With her eminent marriage, their attachment was a complication her parents would no doubt like removed.

The problem; her heart wasn't cooperating. Where before she had managed to stay casual and bury her feelings, today the possibility of losing him entirely had her melting every time he awarded her a simple glance.

As the day wore on, she lamented the situation, darkening her mood and frustrating her parents with her lack of attention to her suitors. Stifling a yawn, she searched the dining hall for a glimpse of Rory, but found herself locking eyes with Arl Wulff's son instead.  
Ronan was an attractive man, fitting the bill of 'tall, dark, and handsome' almost to perfection. He would be Arl of West Hills soon, controlling valuable imports and trade established with many surrounding countries. Every female in the room swooned if he so much as blinked in their direction.

Lost in thought, she took a sip of her tisane, wincing when it burned her tongue. Her family would be pleased if she chose Ronan. Highever would gain exclusive access to West Hills' resources; no small thing to have, but she couldn't bring herself to completely embrace the decision. She couldn't shake the feeling that an arranged marriage to such a proud and influential man would somehow end up being a prison. A man of his character would never allow his wife to overshadow him in any way. She feared not being accepted for who she was, and knew that would only be worse if he felt threatened by her intellect and title - not to mention her combat skills.

"My lady, would you accompany me for a _private_ stroll in the courtyard?" Ronan's husky voice roused her from introspection. _Clearly, he takes the briefest of looks as encouragement. _She sighed inwardly, attempting a smile, annoyed he was seeking her out, yet again. She'd danced with the man for half the night and wasn't sure she could handle being alone with him right now. Rubbing her palms together, she could still feel the smooth, soft texture of his hands, so unlike the calloused hands of a warrior. Yet another reminder that she was being forced to marry a man nothing like the one she craved.

"I… um… well I –"

"I'd love to go somewhere _private _with you, Ronan!" Merrin, a noble friend seated next to her, reached her hand past Aideen in a bold, provocative move.

The light in his eyes darkened, ever so slightly, but he turned with polished etiquette and addressed her flirtatious friend. "My lady, I apologize. You are too young. I fear your father would not approve."

Merrin threw Ronan a pouty look. "I'm only two years younger than Aideen! And what about you… you can't be much older than us?" She caressed his arm suggestively.

"Ah, but those years make the difference." He placed a hand over hers, leaning so close he was practically kissing her. Aideen's eyes widened as she watched Merrin's lips part with invitation, clearly enjoying his closeness.

"As for me, I'm older than I look... but it's my _experience _that makes the difference, sweetheart," he said with a rakish smile that had Merrin and the rest of her comrades turning various shades of scarlet.

_Fantastic_, she thought. _Every girl dreams of having a womanizer for a husband!_

Turning his attention back to Aideen, he persisted. "Please darling, perhaps just out to the balcony. I promise to be a perfect gentleman."  
_No doubt. _Aideen tried not to roll her eyes. "I guess I could use some fresh air," she replied cautiously. Taking his outstretched hand, she allowed him to guide her to the balcony on the other side of the great hall, steering her around the dancing guests.

"Aideen!" Her friend, Leah, interrupted them mid-departure. She'd been dancing with Dairren all evening, but still eyed Ronan like a cool stream on a hot summer's day.

Now Aideen did roll her eyes. _Could I be any more different than every other female in the noble society?_

"I put a jar of fresh honey next to your tisane. That… red-haired knight, he gave it to me and said it was for you." Leah flushed as Ronan's eyebrows rose, his brown eyes flashing a look of agitation. "Oh… he, err… he didn't say it was from _him_… exactly." Blushing further, she threw Aideen an apologetic look and scurried back onto the dance floor.

She tried not to grin, delighted with Rory's gesture. Instead, she focused her attention back on Ronan, meeting his gaze with hesitance. He was studying her with a faint frown.

"Yet another admirer to contend with? I would not have thought to encounter rivalry with a… a _knight_."

"No, no. He's just…" Aideen interlaced her fingers with his; hoping to pacify his resentment, and finally offered a half-truth. "He's just a family friend. I've known him since childhood."

"If my lady insists," he replied with a shrug of his shoulders and pulled her towards the balcony doors.

That darkness had filled his brown eyes once again, and Aideen couldn't help feeling like there was something more menacing to the man than she'd realized. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, making her wonder if she was being too critical and just making up excuses. Looking at him now, his face lit with another one of his alluring smiles, and she couldn't deny the fact it melted all of her previous concerns into the background.

They chatted for quite some time, Aideen putting up with Ronan's mild advances. She was happy to learn more about the man, but was not interested in exploring their physical chemistry at this point. Eventually, she saw Lilly approach from the corner of her eye, announcing that her father wished to speak with her.

Thanking the Maker, she gave Ronan what she hoped looked more like an apologetic look than one of relief. Patting his hand with a touch of awkwardness, she excused herself.

* * *

As she approached her father, she noticed Arl Howe speaking with him, and hesitated. Despite being her father's close friend, he made her uneasy. _Especially when he's been drinking_, she thought, noting the glass of wine in his hand. It was well known that Howe was smitten with her, and when liberated by alcohol, he was far more likely to act on his ardor. _Ugh! I can't handle another inappropriate encounter with that man… not today!_  
Turning, she bumped into Lilly, who exhaled her impatience and pointed sternly back to her father.

"I trust, then, that your troops will be here shortly?" her father questioned Howe as she approached the pair.

"I expect they will start arriving tonight, and we can march tomorrow. I apologize for the delay, my lord." Howe shifted his weight, not quite making eye contact. "This is entirely my fault."

"No, no," her father replied with temperance. "The appearance of the darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling, doesn't it?" He reached out and clamped Howe's shoulder in reassurance.

Howe looked up at her father, relief registering on his face. "Perhaps you could send your men ahead tonight, and then we'll ride tomorrow – just like the old days!" He smiled, but the expression did not come across as sincere.

Aideen wondered at the odd request. _Why not just all ride out together? _He couldn't really think a day would make that much difference to the king.

"I suppose." Her father debated. "I could send Fergus ahead with the men. I wouldn't complain about an extra night with my wife either!" The two men laughed and shook hands in agreement. Noticing Howe's expression change, her father turned – his face lighting up when he saw her.  
"I'm sorry darling; I didn't see you there." Reaching out a hand, he drew her forward as he turned back to his friend. "Howe, you remember my daughter?"

Eagerly, Howe stepped forward to kiss her outstretched hand; his lips lingering just a little too long for comfort. "Ah yes, she grows more lovely every time I visit. _So _pleased to see you again, my dear."

"And you, Arl Howe." She jerked her hand away from his grasp, stepping back just a little too quickly.

Ignoring her reaction, he pressed on. "I understand there's to be an engagement this evening. I was just about to speak with your father about making an offer of my own." His gaze dropped, caressing her body top to bottom before rising to lock with hers, sending a shudder down her spine.

Perceiving Aideen's distress, her father pulled her protectively to his side, regarding Howe with caution. "I understand it's common for men of your age and position to take young wives, but I doubt she'll be receptive, Rendon. My fierce girl has her own mind these days, Maker bless her heart." Lovingly, he brushed a kiss across her forehead.

"Mmm." Howe took another gulp of wine, eyeing Aideen like a prize to be won. "No doubt her strong mind comes from you training her to fight, Bryce. How… barbaric. You're lucky she's beautiful and the young men still want her."

Aideen was shocked he would so plainly insult her father, but her father showed nothing other than constraint when addressing the lewd man. "It's _because _of her beauty that I train her to fight, my friend. In case you hadn't noticed, I don't have to worry about the young men wanting her – it's quite the opposite."

"Yes well, as she grows older, those years between us would make less difference." He took another swig from the almost empty glass of wine before turning back to her. "A lesson sometimes hard-won my dear!"

The memory of attending Arl Eamon's wedding years back flashed in her mind, and she remembered how young his Orlesian bride had been. Bile rose in the back of her throat, imagining the possibility of being married to Howe. _How can you be friends_ _with this lecher_, her mind screamed at her father. She couldn't believe he was permiting Howe to act like this! She was outraged, and her emotions got the better of her.

"Was I brought here for a reason," she snapped, hands planted on her hips.

The two men stared, eyes wide before her father turned back to Howe. "I apologize Howe, but I need a moment _alone _with my daughter."

Howe snorted, throwing Aideen a knowing look as he stalked back to his seat, signaling a servant to bring him more wine.

Her father turned, eyes boring into her with reproach. She met his gaze without blinking.

"Sweetheart," he said, reaching for her hand.

"How can you tolerate that man? The way he looks at me," she blurted, pulling her hand away and gestured heatedly in Howe's direction. "The things he –"

"Aideen!" he warned. "How can _you_ act this way? Your brother rides for Ostagar within the hour, I leave tomorrow, and all you can do is stomp about like a small child. This is _not _how your mother and I raised you."

At that, Aideen shifted back on her heels. "Father, I –"

"All I ask is that you do your part, and choose a husband so you can apply yourself to governing Highever and keep peace in the region while your brother and I are away. Only a token force is remaining here, sweetheart – this is no small responsibility I leave you. We must finalize the matter of your engagement so that you can focus on the task ahead, Aideen."

"B-but father," she stammered. "Howe-"

"Has nothing to do with it." He sighed, giving her a purposeful look. "Be thankful of that." He tipped her chin, trying to gain her focus. "You have lived in a fairy-tale world for long enough, Aideen. It's time to grow up!"

His tone hurt. She fixed her eyes on the ornamented marble tiles below her feet, unwilling for him to see the humiliation they reflected. "I –" she broke off with a sob.

"I'd hoped that given enough time, _you_ would make the choice; but as the day draws to an end… a decision must be made." Cupping her face, he pulled her head to his chest, wrapping his arms around her trembling form. "Believe it or not – I love you more than life itself Aideen, and _am _trying to help you." He held her for a minute, his large hands kneading the stress from her shoulders. When he pulled back, his expression had softened. "Have you narrowed your options… at all?

Looking up, she implored him with her eyes; begging him to understand everything she felt, everything she feared, but didn't know how to explain.

"I apologize, your grace." A servant materialized, interrupting. "The militia has been rallied and Lord Fergus is anxious to depart before dark." Thanking the servant, her father hugged her once more, but spoke with authority. "I'm sorry Aideen, but if you have not made a choice by the time Fergus and the men ride out – one will be made for you."

With that, he turned and disappeared through the doors leading to the courtyard.

She fled to her room, throat constricting, unable to breathe without choking. Tears slipped unbidden down her cheeks, and she brushed them away, refusing to let all of Northern Ferelden see her cry.

* * *

Feeling sorry for herself, she'd spent a solid twenty minutes storming about her room before turning to her bed, pummeling the down comforter while damning Arl Howe and the duties placed upon her to the fade.

Kane, recognizing her mood, opted to remain in the corner nestled on his doggy pillow, lifting his head occasionally to nip playfully at stray feathers as they floated by.

By the time Lilly came to fetch her, a cloud of down swirled above her bed and blanketed the floor. Huffing, Lilly swatted the debris as she marched across the room, seized Aideen and yanked fluff from her hair. Aideen smirked, satisfied with her liberation and the silence as it became clear – Lilly was too angry at her childish temper tantrum to form a reprimand. Instead, she snatched Aideen's hand and escorted her to the courtyard where the entire castle was gathered to see Fergus and the soldiers off.

She allowed Lilly to pull her through the crowd, searching for her brother, a fresh set of tears welling and spilling over. _Maker give me strength_, she thought, praying she'd somehow get a handle on her emotions. She was on the verge of completely unraveling and knew no good would come of it.

Catching sight of Fergus saying his good-byes to Oriana and her nephew, Oren, she quickened her step, failing to notice as Howe maneuvered into her path. Bumping into him, her nostrils were assaulted by the stench of liquor on his breath.

She turned to flee, but he caught her wrist and leaned close, puffing his putrid breath in her face.

"So…," he said with a burp. "Has the warrior princess made her choice, or do I still have a chance to win her for myself?"

"My Lord! I –"

"Mind your choice is with your head and not your emotions, girl. Most of those _boys _are looking for nothing more than a dalliance. Once you conceive an heir, they will move on to something fresh, and you'll be left with nothing but a bawling infant." His gaze wandered over her, shrewd and speculative.

_Lecherous bastard_, she thought. His words struck a chord, surfacing her insecurities on the matter. Her temper flared, his words having the effect of throwing wine on a dangerous flame. She responded rashly. "If you think – never mind! You're too late. The decision's been made!"

"Hear, hear!"

She whirled to see Fergus approaching with her father, raising a chalice in salute. "What a relief." He patted their father on the back.

Raising her chin, she glared up at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that the entire future of Highever is at stake," he laughed. "Father just disclosed that while we are away, you, dear sister - will be in charge. I was beginning to worry about your ability; seeing as how difficult it was for you to handle the simple task of finding a husband." He clinked his chalice against Howe's. "Maker be praised, she _does _know how to make a decision!"

Normally she would take Fergus' teasing as an endearment, but she felt nothing but fury towards her brother at this moment. He knew how she felt about Howe _and _her undoubtedly loveless marriage!

Knowing his daughter and what was boiling under the surface, her father interrupted before she had opportunity to react.

"I am relieved, sweetheart. Tell us, who is the lucky man?"

She tried to maintain a calm appearance. Gulping, she fought her rising despondency and searched for the best answer.

Heavy-lidded, Howe sneered at Aideen. "Oh yes, do tell us, who's managed to tame the lioness?"

Hating the man, she snapped, declaring the first name that came to mind. "Ronan!"

Eyes going wide, she repressed the panic rising in the pit of her stomach. _How on earth did things come to this? _She couldn't believe she'd thrown all sense to the wind; allowing this day, possibly the most important day of her life, to be completely ruled by her emotions. Everyone and everything about this day had gotten the better of her, and now she was trapped. Squaring her shoulders, she resisted the urge to grab Fergus' great sword and impale herself.

Lifting her chin, she accepted the fate she'd unintentionally chosen. "Father, I choose Ronan."

* * *

Depressed, Aideen dipped a finger into the jar of honey next to her cup of tisane, lifted the finger to her lips, and savored the sweetness as it spread through her mouth. The day's events had left her in a fragile state, and saying good-bye to Fergus had put her over the edge

Despite her brief ire towards him earlier; she adored her brother and hated the idea of him being gone – let alone the dangers he would face and what that could mean.  
She'd taken her nephew to bed so Oriana and Fergus could have privacy before his departure. Oren had cried the whole way to his room; begging her to assure him that his daddy wasn't going to die. It had crushed her heart, seeing the pain and fear in her nephew's eyes, knowing she couldn't help as hers reflected the same back at him. Instead, she'd held him close, rocking him to sleep as there was little else she could do.

Oriana eventually came to check on him, tears pouring down her cheeks and soaking her fancy gown. Putting her arms around Oriana, the two had clung to each other and cried until their tears were spent.

Under the circumstances, Oriana was not expected to return to the festivities below, and had wearily crawled into the bed with Oren; wrapping him up in her arms, drawing comfort from her personal little piece of Fergus.

Aideen had tucked the covers around the two, brushing a light kiss across the cheek of one and then the other before rinsing her face and dragging herself back downstairs.

Pushing the thoughts of Fergus and his family away, she plunged her finger back into the honey and swirled it around.

Flushed and sweaty, Leah plopped into the seat next to her, her eyes bright. "I just heard! Give me details."

Not even bothering to look up, Aideen continued churning the honey, relishing the smooth texture as it wrapped around her finger in a protective layer. It was soothing, reminding her of Rory and his devotion."I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not?" Leah asked. "It's exciting… isn't it?"

"Absolutely," Aideen replied in a flat tone, looking up at Leah with a mock smile.

"What's the problem? He's so handsome! And according to Merrin, he _definitely _wants you."

Aideen scanned the room, realizing he probably didn't even know yet. "I don't know, Leah. There's just something about him… I can't quite put my finger on it."

Leah threw her hands up, confused. "Then why on earth did you choose him if you don't like him?"

"I didn't! Well, I did… but it wasn't my choice. I mean… it was forced." Aideen sulked. "It's complicated!"

"Maker's sake, Aideen!" Leah replied tartly. "Would you just calm down! He's the most eligible man in Ferelden, and he's interested in _you_. You, Aideen!" Standing, she gave Aideen a look of envious disgust. Heading back to the dance floor, she paused, glancing over her shoulder. "You know… some of us only _wish _we could be so lucky."

Aideen blinked, surprised by Leah's animosity. "Leah, I…,"

But she was gone. Exhaling, Aideen folded her arms on the table and dropped her head onto her forearm. _When will this day end_, she lamented.

"Some wine, milady?"

Looking up, she grinned wryly at the servant, a reckless gleam in her eye. "I was just thinking it was a good time to have a glass of wine." Reaching out, she took the chalice.

"Or maybe a couple," she muttered lifting the glass to her lips and finished it in one unladylike gulp. Handing the glass back to the wide-eyed servant, she asked for another. _What does it matter,_ she thought. _As if the day could get any worse!_


	4. The Heart's Desires

**A/N:** I apologize it's taken me so long to write this chapter. I have some medical stuff going on and that side of life, mixed with other difficulties took over for a while. I haven't forgotten about my story though and hope you haven't either. :) Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! Let me know what you think.

Major credit goes to my amazing beta, **Eve Hawke**, a constant support and inspiration. I would also like to thank the wonderful **Jaden Anderson** for her input and some beta help.

* * *

Some prices are just too high, no matter how much you may want the prize.

The one thing you can't trade for your heart's desire is your heart.

**~ Lois McMaster Bujold**

* * *

**_Chapter 4_**

* * *

_Aideen thrashed in the quiet darkness, disoriented and weak. With each passing second, her desire to fight waned. Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the excruciating pressure in her lungs, and listened as the wild thrum of her heartbeat slowed. Was this it? _

_Cold penetrated her core, numbing her senses. _Finally_, she thought. _This nightmare can end._ Calm washed over her and she surrendered completely. Releasing her breath, bubbles floated away from her as the life drained from her broken body, leaving her to a watery grave._

"Aideen?" A voice penetrated her muddled thoughts, drawing her back to reality. "Aideen!"

Reluctant to leave her liquor**-**induced state of numbness, she propped her head up – elbow on the table with chin in hand, waiting for her vision to clear.

"What is the matter with you?" the voice hissed at her.

Blinking, she concentrated, willing objects to focus, and realized she was practically nose to nose with Ronan.

For a long moment, they stared at one another. It was obvious he'd heard about her decision, but his countenance was one of annoyance rather than pleasure. "Hmph." A scowl creased her forehead as she jerked away from him. The room began to spin, objects seeming to whirl out of control, and she ended up reaching out for his support instead.

Bending down, he seized her elbows and pulled her into his arms. Cupping the back of her neck, he leaned down and whispered in her ear. "Maker's breath, woman, you smell like the inside of a wineskin. How much have you had to drink?"

"Um… not sure." She pressed her forehead into his chest, unable to suppress a giggle and muffling it instead against the back of her hand.

"Aideen!" he chided. Gripping her shoulders, he gave her a shake. "We are to finalize the engagement with your father, and I will_ not_ have you making a fool of me like this! Thank the Maker, most guests have already left for their lodging in town and will not witness… this." Grimacing, he indicated her current drunken state.

Snorting, she tried to dismiss him with a wave, but as objects in the room began to sway again, she ended up groping his face for balance instead. Ronan's face contorted, glowering as he grappled with her weaving form, unappreciative of the humor she found in the situation. Despite his obvious anger, this only made her giggle more as he tore her offending hand away and pushed her back into her seat.

"Seriously!" He bent down, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look at him. "How much?"

"Oh what's the matter, Ron–" she released a loud hiccup. Swatting his hand away, she reached for her wine glass and thrust it high in the air. "I only wanted to toast our future happiness together..." she paused as her arm wobbled and wine sloshed onto Ronan's foot. "Ok… maybe more than once." Snickering, she lowered the glass to her lips, but Ronan slapped it from her hand and sent it flying across the room where it shattered against the wall.

"Listen," he leaned down and caught her chin with an impatient hand."You may have gotten away with this behavior before, but you belong to _me _now, and I will not tolerate it."

Leaning back, he straightened his lavish garments while eying the dwindling party guests for observation of Aideen's pageantry. Keeping an eye on the crowd, he reached out and drew her back up to stand before him.

"Now," he whispered. Placing a firm hand at the small of her back, he forced her towards the nearest balcony entrance. "You're going to get some fresh air and pull yourself together. When you're able to _control _yourself, your father and I will be waiting for you in his study."

Reaching the balcony doors, he paused, delving into his pocket to withdraw a jewelry box. Pressing it into her palm, he leveled her with a meaningful stare. "I trust you'll _try_ to not lose this in the meantime? I had it specially imported, and it holds twice the value of anything you've ever owned."

She twisted away from his grasp, annoyed by his smug expression. Reaching out, he snatched her hand, folding her fingers protectively around the fancy case. Then, with a final shove, he deposited her on the balcony and slammed the double doors behind her.

Dazed, she swiveled to regard his exit with a scowl and seriously contemplated chucking the box out of irritation. "Thanks!" she called, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Most romantic proposal, _ever_!"

Releasing a grunt, she stumbled over to the parapet and draped her arm over it, leaning her hip into the rough stone for support as she studied the container in her hand. Finding the clasp, she pried it open, eyes going wide at the diamond ring inside. "Maker's breath!" she gasped. "What the hell am I supposed to do with _this_? He can't seriously expect me to wear it."

Sighing, she tugged the band from the box and slipped it onto her finger. It was heavy and uncomfortable, as burdening as she expected her loveless marriage to be. Breathing deeply, she leaned her head back and offered a prayer up to the night sky. "Maker help me. I don't think I can do this."

* * *

Gilmore paced the circuitous grand hall balcony, a familiar path, one he'd walked countless times on so many nights before. A light breeze warded away the fog rolling in from the Waking Sea and left a trace of salt on his skin. Normally, he would have appreciated the exceptional weather for his nightly post, but tonight his mind wandered, filled with memories of his years spent in Highever. A home he was now leaving… quite possibly _forever_.

Amber lights from Highever's cityscape glowed in the countryside beyond the Castle walls, drawing his attention to the moonlit road bridging the two. Turning, he rested his forearms on the parapet, remembering the first time he saw Highever while traveling that very road to the castle gates.

_"Just look at that castle, Roland!" A large hand clamped down on his shoulder, shaking him with enthusiasm. "Have you ever seen anything, so beautiful?" His father's animated words grated on Rory's nerves as the carriage bucked, covering the remaining distance to the castle gates. He didn't care how pretty the stupid castle looked. If his father liked it that much, maybe _he _should be the one moving in. _

_The massive gates groaned in protest as they swung open__into the main courtyard. A small group stood just inside, waiting to welcome them – the teyrn whom he would serve, and his noble family, Rory suspected. The teyrn looked like a formidable man, leaving Rory with a sense of apprehension that only amplified his anxiety. A growing knot twisted in his gut, but then his eyes gravitated to the second individual, whose presence was overshadowed only by her father's._

_The teyrn's daughter looked to be a few years younger than himself, and had a contagious smile that sent a tingle down his spine, diminishing his nerves almost immediately. The knot in his stomach melted away, thoughts of hating Highever all but forgotten as he tripped in his hurry to get down the carriage steps. Catching his footing, he forced himself to slow his pace and made it the rest of the way to the ground without further incident._

_"Oh, are you all right, dear?" He felt his cheeks redden as the teyrna stepped forward, concern radiating from her in that special motherly way. "You must be so tired from your long journey."_

_"Oh please say you're not tired," The young girl scampered over to his side, her lips drooping into a pout. "I've been waiting for you to arrive all morning. Here... see, I made this for you." Grabbing his hand, she twined a thin braided leather thong around his wrist before curling her fingers around his big thumb and dragging him along behind her, chattering on like they were the only people in the courtyard, "and I have so many things to show you. I–"_

_"Aideen." A deep voice rang out, pulling Rory's attention back to the teyrn. "Sweetheart, give the boy some space. This is all very new for him, and he doesn't know us yet."_

_"But daddy!" she lamented. "I want to be the one to show him around. He can get to know us later. Besides," she folded her hands into the crook of Rory's arm. "Can't you see? We're going to be best friends!"_

_The teyrn's laugh surprised Rory, hearty and full of a warmth that didn't match his original assessment of the man. "Alright, fine. You can show him around, but take him to Nan first and make sure he gets some food in his stomach. Something tells me he's going to need it." _

_Rory was drawn to the open love reflected in the teyrn's eyes for his daughter, and couldn't help noticing how the stern face now appeared softer, with distinct laugh lines crinkling around the corners of his eyes. A glimmer of hope stirred in Rory's heart. Maybe this place wasn't going to be so bad after all._

The memory drew a smile to Gilmor's lips, his fingers toying with a frayed end of the braided band, still wound about his wrist. Aideen had stolen his heart the first moment he saw her, and they'd shared a special connection ever since. As long as he lived, he would never be more grateful than for the moment fate brought her into his life. To think he would have done _anything _to keep from coming here as a boy, and now the idea of leaving twisted that knot into his stomach all over again.

Tomorrow he traveled with Duncan to Ostagar, knowing little of what life in the Grey Wardens held in store; only that it was a great honor and something he'd often dreamed of. Thanks to years of personal interest from the teyrn, cultivating his talents into something leaders like Duncan would appreciate, his hard work was finally paying off. However, the accomplishment was bittersweet as the idea of leaving Highever reminded him of everything he would miss. His loyalty to the Cousland family ran deep, and he truly believed he would not be the man he was had he not come to Highever so many years ago.

Turning the corner, he paused, spotting the shadowy figure of a woman in the distance. He contemplated whether he should approach, a wry smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. Late night watch at the castle often proved to be entertaining; he had witnessed many midnight trysts between secret lovers… especially on nights with so many guests about.

Assessing the woman further, his jovial expression faltered, replaced with one of shock as recognition hit. He noted the exquisite contour of her profile as she surveyed the moonlit countryside, the soft breeze tugging her curls into alluring disarray.

_Aideen_, he sucked in his breath. _What is she doing out here… alone!_

He hesitated, hanging back in the shadows as he contemplated the idea that it would be better to just head the other way and avoid her altogether. Word was that Ronan had been announced as the lucky bastard to soon have her, and it brought to the forefront of his mind all that was about to change between him and Aideen. Cold fingers slide around his heart, squeezing until it was painful to breathe. He resented the thought of someone so dear to him being wasted on a man so unfeeling and degrading as that pompous ass. Aideen was passionate and inviting, filled with a wealth of love, just waiting to be discovered by the right man.

He'd be damned if that man was Ronan!

Shaking his head, he willed himself to think about something else. It was torture, wanting something he would never have. Drawing a deep breath, he pivoted on his heel as quietly as possible and started back the way he'd come.

"Rory! Is that you?" He winced, freezing mid stride when her voice reached him. Squeezing his eyes shut, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Where are you going?" Her words slurred, just a touch, but he was more caught off guard by the unusual strain in her tone.

Exhaling, he swiveled back to face her, heart melting when he saw the pain that radiated from her eyes. Filled with the need to comfort her, unwilling feet carried him to her side. "Aid? Is everything all right?"

"Rory," her breath caught, as if trying to hold back a sob. "I've made such a mess of things!" Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, her eyes squeezed shut as she shook her head.

His gaze followed a tear as it trickled down to her mouth... those soft, expressive lips that had teased and tortured him for years. Unable to help himself, he lifted a hand, thumb moving in a slow upward caress, brushing away the tear. "What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She ventured a few shaky steps, covering what little distance remained between them and circled her arms around his waist. "I just want to be here, with you."

Gilmore sucked in a breath, fiddling at his back to unlace her fingers, desperate to untangle himself from her grasp. "Aid! If someone caught us…" Drawing her arms away from him, he moved a pace back.

"What… where in the fade do you think you're going?" Her delicate brows drew together in confusion. Stretching a hand out, she swayed, but he stepped to a safer distance, willing every ounce of self-control into action.

"I'm on watch, Aideen. I really need to finish my rounds."

"Roland Gilmore! Don't you _dare_ make me chase after you." Gaining a grip on the parapet, she inched her way towards him. "I'm too… well, I'm too tipsy."

As her hands moved, a glint of light caught his attention, drawing his gaze to a ring gracing the heart finger of her left hand. Icy fingers contracted in his chest once again. It was hard to miss the opulent gem, glistening even in the darkness of night. He was used to Aideen wearing simple - if any - jewelry, and that made the ring seem even more ridiculous.

"That's quite the ring, Aid," he responded dryly. "Shouldn't you be in there with your fiancé... celebrating?"

"Oh please!" she huffed. "I've been _drinking_, not celebrating, Rory. And I'll spend time with that _ass_ when we're married… only because _then_, I'll have to." She continued creeping along the parapet, nothing less than determined to reach him.

Gilmore regarded her clumsy approach, shifting from foot to foot, battling the desire to take her into his arms. It was nearly impossible to resist_. _Unaccustomed to seeing her so broken and distraught, he wanted nothing more than to be there for her.

In a final effort, he forced himself back, hands firmly clenched at his sides, refusing himself permission to touch her. "What happened? Why is Ronan your fiancé, if you feel this way?"

Sagging with defeat, she abandoned the attempt to reach him. Folding her arms on the parapet, she rested a cheek on her shoulder and regarded the starry night sky. "Arl Howe cornered me. He was drunk, his usual disgusting self and… I lost it."

"So… what? You got drunk yourself, and then, _somehow_ ended up engaged to Ronan?" Gilmore rolled his eyes as he turned to leave.

"No! Wait," she called. "Howe was asking – well, demanding – that I accept _his_ proposal of marriage, and–"

"What!" Gilmore whirled back to face her, his hands tightening into fists. "That miscreant! It's one thing to encourage a match with one of his sons, but… marry _him_!"

To his surprise, Aideen gave a short laugh. "No Rory, it's my fault. I mean, yes, he was being inappropriate. But is that really a surprise?" She rolled her eyes heavenward, shaking her head. "That's just Howe, and I knew that. The real problem is that I let it get to me, and… well, needless to say – bad decisions were made." Propping her elbows on the parapet, she worked her fingers in slow circles at her temple.

"Aid," he said softly. Feeling the need to hold her grow with each passing second, he knew his resolve would fail if he stayed with her much longer. "I... I should go."

"Why?" A mischievous grin played across her lips, deepening into that bewitching smile of hers. "After all the other mistakes I've made today. What's the harm in making just a few more?"

Somehow, either she'd managed to maneuver herself over to him, or he'd unknowingly moved, drawn back to her – which, he didn't know. But her fingers twined into his hair, and he could do little more than gulp as she whispered, "Run away with me."

With that, she drew his lips down to hers, and he was lost. Cupping the back of her head, he pulled her tight against him, savoring the feel of her even as he told himself it would be the last time. He deepened the kiss, relishing her taste, a smile tipping the corners of his mouth when he tasted honey. She hadn't forgotten about him today after all. Pulling back, he stared into her shadowed blue eyes, forcing himself to remember the fact that she now belonged to another.

"You're such a tease. You know that?" Again, he tried to put some distance between them, but she would have none of it.

"I'm not teasing... not anymore," she insisted. "Don't you want us to be together?"

He froze. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying I want us to be together... I love you."

"What?" Panic welled in the pit of his stomach, rising to form a lump in his throat. She'd never said anything like this to him before!

She cupped his face, her expression earnest. "Rory, I love –"

"You're drunk, Aid." Pulling her hands from his face, he cupped them between his and held them against his chest. Guiding her back to the parapet, he started pacing. "Things are different now… you're getting _married_! And I... I'm going to be a Grey Warden." Stopping in front of her, he brushed a stray curl from her forehead and traced a finger down the contour of her face. "I leave in the morning."

"I can come with you," she replied.

"What?" His hands shook as they closed over her shoulders, stunned she was at the point of thinking such things. "Aideen, you couldn't do that to your family!"

"I can't do what they want, Rory," she responded. "I'm leaving, and I _want _to go with you."

"How can you –" Releasing her shoulders, he stalked away before turning and pointing an angry finger at her. "Do you have _any_ sympathy for the fact that leaving will be _that_ much harder, now that you've said this?"

A familiar fire returned to her eyes, and without warning, she hurled a small metal box that had been sitting on the parapet at his head. Thankfully, in her drunken state, her aim was off and he dodged it with ease.

Straightening, he threw her a black look. "Feel better?" Lifting his hands, he yanked his leathers back into place. "Maker, you're a mean drunk!"

"Then stop acting like I've cooked up some elaborate scheme to torture you," she retorted. "I love my family, but I will _not_ stay here and be buffeted around by what everybody else wants me to do. I can't devote myself to life here, living in a loveless marriage, Rory." She took his hand and placed it on her chest. "I need to make my own destiny, or everything you love about me will ebb away until there's nothing left. I'm coming with you." Her head dipped with a definitive nod.

He expelled a short laughed. "Aid, you're a teyrn's daughter! You've been trained for this your whole life. Besides, your father would have my head if I even considered agreeing to this."

"He won't find out. We can disappear."

"Really?" He leaned back, crossing his arms with a scowl. "Are you listening to yourself? What about Duncan and the Grey Wardens? What about… _Fergus_?" He paled at the thought. "You know your brother will hunt any man, even to the fade, if he so much as _thought_ about disgracing your name."

"Well, we can just pay Duncan off. I'm sure he could find another recruit on his way back to Ostagar. Maker knows, the Wardens probably could use the mo– " she faltered, stumbling back as he snatched her left hand, thrusting the diamond ring from Ronan in her face.

"Hypothetically, pretending there's even a _hint _of sanity in this childishness, do you really think you're prepared to give up this life?" he asked.

"I don't want things like this, Rory. I thought _you_, of all people, would know that." Glaring at him, she twisted her fingers from his grasp.

"Only because you've always had them, Aid, and you can't just _buy _your way out of everything. Life with me would be a far cry from anything you're used to, or could even imagine for that matter. I have nothing to offer you." The fact killed him, but using it to push her away hurt him even more. "After everything your family has done for me… how could you ask me to do this?"

For what seemed like an eternity, she just stood there, blinking at him. He stood his ground, falling to pieces inside, as everything hopeful in her expression regressed into despair.

"Fine," she replied, averting her gaze to hide a fresh set of tears. "Excuse me, as I go back to being a political chess piece – or the luxurious life I can't live without, as you put it." Spinning on her heel, she lost her balance, but caught it just in time to slap his hand away when he reached out to assist her. Picking up the hem of her gown, her forehead scrunched in concentration as she placed one foot after the other until she reached the balcony doors.

"Aid," he pleaded. "I never meant to hurt you."

Pausing she held the door open and glowered back at him. "When I told you 'I love you', I never dreamed it would be so one sided. I have nothing left to say to you."

Hanging his head, he listened as the door slipped shut, hating how he longed to be the man to fulfill all her wishes, and damning fate for making him the man who couldn't.

* * *

Aideen was in such a hurry to leave the balcony, she careened right into a man's chest. "Excuse me," she muttered, sidestepping to move around him.

"My dear, did I interrupt something?"

Aideen cringed, recognizing the haughty tone of Ronan's voice. "Ronan! Er... I was just on my way to–"

"I see." Ronan slid an arm around her waist and began ushering her towards a set of doors that lead to the inner ward. "The lowly protector takes his job, _very_ seriously."

Aideen raised her chin. "I'm assuming, when you use the term 'lowly protector', you're referring to Ser Gilmore? He happens to be one of our finest knights!"

"Perhaps. But one has to wonder, my dear, if a man _could _show restraint when assigned to watch over such a tempting creature as you? What a fool, to accept such an impossible assignment... or, perhaps not." His expression was frightening, reflecting little of the amusement in his voice. "If I found you in the dark at such a late hour, seeking my – what did you call it... 'friendship', I might have secreted you away to some private corner."

_Maker help me, _Aideen thought, flushing at the implied meaning of his words. "My lord, it's not what you think."

"I'm not fond of sharing things that belong to me, Aideen," he warned, his arm tightening around her into a painful hold.

Forcing herself to breath, she told herself that his words only justified her decision to leave. She just wished she was leaving with Rory. A growing ache contracted in her chest. How could he not love her?

_Stop it Aideen_, she chided herself. Everything was going to work out. She would talk to him again first thing in the morning and convince him they were meant to be together. She just needed to finish this charade with Ronan, get to her room and pack. "You have nothing to worry about, Ronan. Shall we go find father?"

"I wouldn't worry your pretty little head about the meeting. It's done." His lips curled into a sinister smirk. "Everything's been decided."

"What!" She struggled, twisting in his arm to see his face. "My father wouldn't do that!"

"Oh I don't know," he replied. "He seemed _very _understanding when I told him of your distress over Fergus' departure and that you had gone to bed." Reaching the inner ward, he took her by the arms and guided her up the stairwell that led to the antechamber outside her room, but she felt more trapped than aided by him at this point. Reaching the top of the stairs without relinquishing his grip, he rotated her to face him and lifted her chin. "Speaking of 'bed', I think it's time, don't you?" he said it softly, but his entire demeanor had changed from possessive to something dark and… predatory.

Disquieted by the change in him, she spun and darted for her bedroom door, but it was too late. He seized her, grabbing a fistful of hair before he threw her against a table near her bedroom door. Aideen glared at Ronan's dark, menacing form. "How dare you! My father will have your head on a pike for this!"

"What?" He mocked, arrogance coloring his tone. "Am I not allowed to touch my future _wife_?"

"No! Not like this!"

"Well, perhaps you'll find this more enjoyable." Even in the darkness, she could distinguish the glint of teeth as he smiled. "I know I will."

Savage hands reached across the table, crushing her waist as he slid her to the edge, bunching her dress up and working himself between her legs. It all happened much too quickly, and disbelieving he would do such a thing, she found herself straddling him. Refusing to give in, she lifted her hand and slapped the smirk from his face. "Stop this! You blighted fool!"

Catching her wrists, he pinned them to the table, sweat dotting his skin from the struggle. Shifting his weight, he bent his lips down to her ear, his stale breath panting against her cheek. "Since I won the little warrior princess' hand, I get to enjoy her when and how I want to."

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, fleshy and wet. It felt like kissing a mushy, rotten piece of fruit, dripping its offensive juice into her mouth. She wormed beneath him, twisting her head from side to side, bile rising in the back of her throat.

She never thought she'd regret drinking so much, but as she tried working a leg into an advantageous position, her foggy brain failed her, unwilling to communicate properly with her extremities. As the grimness of the situation became clear, panic threatening to overwhelm, she bared her teeth in a final attempt to save herself and bit down on his bottom lip. The metallic taste of his blood flooded her mouth, the acrid, coppery scent clogging her nostrils. Her stomach lurched in response, and as Ronan pulled back, bellowing in pain, the meager contents of her offended stomach bubbled forth, spewing all over his fine shirt and shoes.

Horror-struck, he released her wrist, wrapping his fingers around her throat and slammed her head into the table. "You bitch! It's time you learned your place."

Pain radiated through her skull, her vision fading in and out. A twinge of hope swelled in her breast upon hearing Kane's bark in the background, but he didn't come. Moaning in frustration, she realized Rory must have secured Kane away from the festivities.

Pushing her hysteria away, she drew in deep breaths, summoning every ounce of her training to the forefront of her mind. Gaining a small sense of calm, she realized her free hand was clenching a decorative cloth that had been draped over the center of the table. Remembering a large clay bowl that had been situated somewhere on the right side of the table, she pawed at the table's surface, stretching her fingers until she felt the gritty texture of the bowl's outer shell. Relief washed over her as she curled her fingers around the edge of the bowl and hefted it into the air. Only provided one angle, she swung the bowl in a wide arch, using the momentum to boost the impact. Instinctively, the movement caught Ronan's eye, just in time for him to rotate his head and receive the crushing force square in his face.

He howled, clenching his mouth and nose, blood spilling down his fancy tunic. Sinking to his knees, he coughed and spat a crimson tooth on the ground. Aideen waited for what felt like an eternity as he knelt there, fixated on his tooth, before she found enough courage to slide off the table and smash the bowl over the top of his head. She heaved a deep breath, hands trembling at her sides, as he fell to the ground in an unconscious lump.

Straightening, she took her time getting to her door, every movement sending sharp pains through her head.

"Kane," she said to the angry beast in her room. "I'm going to open the door now. I'm unharmed, so you don't have to tear him to pieces when I let you out. All right?"

An angry bark sounded from the other side of her door.

"Kane." She pressed a hand against the rough wooden grain, lowering her forehead to the stone wall bordering it. "He didn't hurt me badly, I promise."

There was a soft whine, followed by insistent scratching at the door. Pulling the latch, she swung the door open and bent down to embrace her worried hound. The silver fur between his eyes wrinkled as he assessed her injuries. He released a low whine, licking various bruise marks Ronan's fingers had left on her skin before nuzzling his wet nose into the hollow of her neck. "I know," she responded. "I'm all right."

Standing, she took one more look at Ronan's limp form sprawled on the floor before slamming her door and sliding the lock into place with shaking hands. Leaning her back against the door, she reached down to give Kane another reassuring pat on the head. Even now, her hound growled at the door, his eyes lifting entreatingly. She wanted nothing more than to let Kane have his way and rip Ronan limb from limb, but she was beyond exhausted, and needed to focus on getting her things together before she could leave the horrors of the day behind and surrender to the comfort of her bed.

"C'mon boy," she said in a quivering voice. "I need to clean up, and then we're packing. This is our last night in Highever."


	5. Treachery in the Night

Aideen groaned, resentment swelling towards whatever or whoever was dragging her from the sweet refuge of sleep.

Consciousness tingling her senses awake, she rolled over in bed and chucked a pillow at her war hound, who was whining and scratching at her door. Releasing a short yip, Kane's stub of a tale bent between his legs as he jumped back in surprise. He sat back on his haunches, eyes reflecting the injured nature of his feelings as he offered a timid whine.

Ignoring the look on his face, she settled back against her pillows and wriggled deeper into the softness of her coverlet with a weary sigh, only to be disturbed moments later as Kane's insistent scratching resumed.

"Argh, Kane! _Please_...stop. Do you have any idea what time it is?" she grated. Slapping a hand down on the mattress, her elbow depressed the cushy material as she propped herself up with an exasperated sigh. "You don't need to be raiding the larder right now. Of all the nights-"

She was cut off by a frantic knock on her door. Kane responded with a loud bark before sitting next to the latch and throwing her an expectant look.

"M'lady!" Lilly's urgent voice called from behind her door. "M'lady, please let me in. _M'lady_!"

Aideen roused herself, groggy and confused as to why Lilly would be pounding on her door in the middle of the night. The cold floor sent a chill up her spine, kickstarting her brain like an electric shock. _Ronan_! Her knees deadlocked as she twined one arm around the bedpost, her other hand flying to her mouth and muffling a mortified gasp. _They found him! How am I going to explain? _

She whirled about the room, picking up clothes and supplies strewn about from her attempt to pack before passing out with exhaustion._ Maker's breath!_ What had happened to her life? Everything felt like it was spinning out of control. Deep down, she knew a lot of her recent choices were at the heart of it all. She just didn't know-

"M'lady!" Lilly's voice was frantic now, a high pitched screech that curled Aideen's toes. Hooking her foot over the now overflowing pack, she shoved it under her bed, tripping as it caught in the hem of her... Battlefeast gown?

"Argh, Maker's breath," she groaned, annoyed she hadn't even managed to change out of the elegant frock before falling asleep. Gathering the dress away from her feet she headed for her door. "Just one second Lilly, I'm coming."

Forcing the lock back, she didn't even have time to pull the latch before Lilly pushed the door in and took hold of her wrists. Aideen drew back, the look on Lilly's face summoning a fear that crept along her skin and braided itself around her pounding heart, constricting until the frantic beating stopped. She swallowed the lump in her throat, trying to find the words she needed. "Lilly! What... what's wrong? What's happened?"

"Come," she tugged Aideen towards the antechamber. "You _must_ come, m'lady. The castle is under attack!"

"Wait..." Aideen wrenched her hands free, stumbling back and sitting on the end of her bed in shock. "What?"

Lilly advanced on Aideen with determination. "M'lady, _please_! We must get you to-"

She was interrupted by Kane's low growl, Aideen's eyes going wide as an armored soldier surged into her room, another one right behind him.

Kane barraged the first man, knocking him to the ground and tearing into any exposed flesh he could find. Aideen cried out as the second man raised his sword. Lunging for Lilly, Aideen pulled her to the ground just as the man's blade arced through the air, missing Lilly's head by a fingerbreadth. Eyes wide with fear, Lilly lay frozen, draped over Aideen and pinning her to the ground. Grunting with effort, Aideen shoved her to the side and under the bed, just in time to roll in the opposite direction. The sword slammed down, tiny sparks dancing in the air as blade met stone, the soldier grunting in frustration at missing his mark.

Rolling half a circle more, Aideen ended on her stomach, facing her wardrobe. Concealed within was a chest harboring her twin daggers, and she knew her only hope was to get her hands on those blades.

_Maker_, she berated herself, the gown hindering her ability to maneuver across the floor. _Why couldn't I have changed out of this cursed dress? _Writhing like a wounded larva, she wormed her way to the closet doors, her breath petering out in quick puffs by the time her fingers made contact with the carved wood. The lining of her dress stuck to the small of her back as beads of sweat dotted on her skin and trickled down her spine. She spared a look over her shoulder, fearful her attacker was about to grab her.

Tears pooled in her eyes when she saw who he'd gone after instead. He'd pulled Lilly out from under the bed and was holding her by her hair, his other arm raised high, ready to deliver a killing blow.

"No," she cried. "Please!"

Lilly's features twisted into a look of horror, her terrified scream filling the room as the blade descended, sinking into the hollow of her neck. The soldier released Lilly and she sank into a lump at his feet, the life draining from her limp body.

Something guttural and raw churned within Aideen's chest. Venting a cry unlike anything she'd heard herself make before, she whirled back to the ornate wooden doors and flung them wide. Kneeling**,** she tore into the small weaponry chest, securing her twin daggers and a leather shoulder harness to sheath them at her back. Thus armed, she turned on the foul attacker and crouched into a defensive stance. "If you thought finishing the job was going to be easy, you've got another thing coming. You _bastard_!"

A menacing growl sounded behind the man. His distraction was the only invitation she needed, charging as Kane jumped up and clamped his powerful jaw around the soldier's arm, hauling him to the floor. Covering the distance between them took effort, fighting her dress the entire way, but Kane held the man firm until she managed to launch herself onto the soldier's chest and stab her daggers into his neck.

Sunken eyes stared into hers as she watched the light flicker and then vanish from the soldier's face. Shell-shocked, her mind refusing to comprehend all that had just happened, she crawled to Lilly's side and gathered the listless body into her arms. Tears welled again, this time spilling over and down Aideen's ashen cheeks as she cradled her lady-in-waiting to her chest. _No! This can't be real! _

Kane settled his weight by her side, laving the tears from her cheek with an uneasy whine.

Still clutching Lilly's body, Aideen bent herself around it, rocking back and forth in a self-soothing manner. She screwed her eyes shut, praying fervently for this to be nothing but a bad dream.

She felt the vibration of Kane's growl reverberate where he snuggled into her, offering support. Lifting her head, she realized more invaders must be close, giving her little time to deal with the confusion and loss she felt.

Hugging Lilly close, she brushed a soft kiss across her forehead as she let go and eased the body back onto the floor. Pressing a fist into her quivering lips, Aideen stifled a sob as she brushed shaky fingers over Lilly's unseeing eyes and drew them shut.

Gathering her daggers, she forced her weary body to a stand. She hesitated, staring at the fallen bodies blocking her path, trying to make out the heraldry on their armor. _Is that... a bear? _The cold sting of awareness slithered down her spine as her fingers constricted around the hilt of her blades. "That traitorous _bastard_!" she hissed.

Dropping back on all fours, she fished under the bed for her pack. If Arl Howe's men were really storming the castle, she _had_ to get out of this dress. "Maker's breath!" she grunted, climbing further under the bed.

A pained yelp rang out from the antechamber, reminding her that more of Howe's men had been close and now Kane faced them alone. Jaw hardening with resentment, she pulled herself from under the bed and rushed to deal with whoever had injured her faithful companion.

Aideen charged the nearest soldier assaulting Kane, arching backwards as he turned and swung his long sword at her throat. The force of her movement put a final strain on the seam running the length of her gown. It split, gaping open along her upper thigh. As soon as the blade passed, she attacked the man with swift, precise strikes, her steps tearing free the remaining stitches. Slicing into his exposed underarm with a sidelong uppercut, she furled her other blade into a reverse grip as she twisted behind his back and plunged the dagger into his flank. The man bellowed as she yanked the blade and danced back into a defensive stance. Dropping his sword, frantic fingers grappled to staunch the wound as he staggered to his knees. She circled him like a prowling cat, hoping the large man was more brute than brain and would provide her another easy opening.

Without warning, the man lunged forward and struck out with a massive fist, his metal glove smashing into the crook of her jaw with a sickening thud. Stars danced as blackness assaulted her, held at bay by sheer force of will. Warmth trickled down her chin as blood dripped from the corner of her mouth,and she felt like her head might explode from the pain. Blinking, she fought to gain control, hating her body's sluggish attempts to move. Barely avoiding his advance, she forced her feet to a nearby oil lamp and grabbed the iron stand. Thrusting the lamp at the man; the attack more one of desperation rather than design, she cringed as the hot oil covered him, hissing as it seared his skin. He let out a blood-curdling shriek, dropping to the floor where he writhed and thrashed like a deranged creature from the Wilds. Unwilling to gamble further, she darted forward and finished him off with a clean pass of her blade to his throat.

Sucking in deep breaths, her heartbeat slowed, but the moment of calm was short-lived as Kane snarled towards the stairway, telling her more attackers were on their way. Moving after her war hound, her foot caught once again on the ripped remains of her gown. "Maker's blood!" She pulled a dagger and slashed into the once beautiful fabric, pouring out her frustration until the hem fell above her knees. Face steeling with determination, she whistled to Kane and they ran down the stairs to deal with the next group of Howe's men.

* * *

Soldiers continued to appear in small waves, the fight driving them down hallways to a connecting ward with passage to her parents' chamber.

The echo of footsteps sounded from a nearby corridor as she dispatched the last group. Running to the connecting wall, Aideen crouched, pressing her back into the hard stone and signaling Kane into a shadowed corner.

"Aideen!" Her mother's voice called from the passageway.

"Mother?" she called back. Immeasurable relief washed over her when her mother's face materialized from the darkness. "Mother! Arl Howe... his men! They..." She broke off, sobbing.

Eleanor rushed to Aideen's side, her formal dress armor squeaking from lack of use. Gathering Aideen into a fierce embrace, she heaved a visible sigh of relief. "Oh Maker be praised, you're safe!"

"Mother... they... Lilly's dead," Aideen cried into her mother's shoulder.

Gentle fingers ran through her hair as Eleanor snuggled her closer, whispering encouragement. Aideen clung to her mother, drawing strength from the reassurance she gave. If only time could stop, Aideen would be happy to stay in this moment, never to face the horrors of this night again.

Pulling back, her mother smoothed a loving hand down the side of her face and lifted her chin. "Aideen, where-"

Another group of Howe's men burst into the ward. Eleanor pushed Aideen behind her and took a protective stance. Drawing her bow, she nocked an arrow and took aim. Kane jumped into action, flanking her mother and readying to attack.

"Aideen, hurry! Check on Oriana and Oren. Howe's men aren't taking prisoners. If we're too late-" Her mother faltered, voice cracking with emotion.

Reality crushed Aideen's momentary escape as the gravity of losing more than her lady-in-waiting sank in. Commanding Kane to stay and protect her mother, Aideen bounded up a nearby stairwell. Compelled by the growing body count she discovered along the way, Aideen hastened through the halls, desperate to abate the rising trepidation in her heart. _They wouldn't murder a child!_

There was a moment of panic when she reached Fergus and Oriana's chamber, Aideen momentarily forgetting that Oriana had crawled into bed with Oren. Hurrying through the small antechamber connecting Oriana's room with his, Aideen stopped. Oren's door lay open, splintered from the force of Howe's men breaking it in. Aideen covered her mouth, muffling a horrified gasp as her eyes fell to one of Oriana's beautiful shoes resting in a pool of blood. "No!" she whispered. "Please... no... Maker, _please_ no!"

She sank to her knees, reaching out with trembling fingers, afraid to touch the marred shoe and make it real. Aideen let out a soft cry as her fingers grazed the fine satin fabric. Slumping forward, she fought for breath as she rested her forehead against the uneven stone floor. Fingers creeping about the dainty shoe, she sat up and pulled it tight to her chest before rising and forcing herself to enter Oren's room.

The sight inside brought her to the verge of a full breakdown. Sagging against the broken door, she averted her eyes and bit down on her bottom lip as a strangled sob broke free. Erecting a mental barrier, she chanted to herself, "Wake up Aideen! It's a dream. Wake up... _wake up_!"

"Aideen!" Her mother ran into the room, Kane at her heels. "What... no!"

Aideen's hand snaked out, catching her mother's as she tried to enter Oren's room. "Mother..." she whimpered, nodding her head at the small foot peeking out from the mass of twisted, blood-soaked blankets on Oren's bed. Oriana's body lay sprawled at the base of the bed, cut down first in her attempt shelter her son from the assailants.

Eleanor froze. eyes sinking into deep wells of pain and despair, she dropped at Aideen's feet and began to weep. "Who could _do_ such a thing?"

Aideen pushed off from the door and bent over her mother's quaking form. Wrapping her arms about her mother, she rocked back and forth, trying to offer comfort where none could be given.

Eleanor straightened, her tears not even close to spent, circumstances forcing her to move on sooner than might have been healthy. "I can't, Aideen..." She turned to her daughter, her elegant brows angled with grief and concern. "Have you seen your Father? He didn't come to bed last night and I'm afraid..." She trailed off, her face crumpling with fear.

Gathering her mother's hands, Aideen held them to her chest. "We'll find him, mother!" A spark of hope ignited and she felt herself believing the words. "He won't go down without a fight. Howe can't win. We won't let him!" Leaning forward she pressed a kiss to her mother's moist cheek.

"Yes. Let's go... I don't want to see this anymore." Her mother averted her gaze from the slaughter of her daughter-in-law and grandson.

* * *

They fought their way through the castle for what felt like hours. Reaching the inner ward, they were relieved to find the remaining contingent of guards trying to maintain the barricade that kept the rest of Howe's men outside the final fallback of the castle.

Aideen shook with fury. The inner ward echoed with the screams of innocent servants being slaughtered in the courtyard. The stench of burning flesh seeped through the doors, the smoke assaulting her nose and burning her eyes. Aideen tried to shut it out, but the sounds of the dying shook her to the very core. Howe was a coward!

Spotting Rory, she practically fell to the ground in relief as their eyes met, his face emulating the joy she felt at finding him alive. _Thank the Maker!_ she thought, grateful their relationship had not ended with the final words of their last encounter. She crossed the ward with lengthened strides and hugged him like she'd never let go, flinching as he crushed her in his own needy embrace, aggravating gashes and bruises that up to this point had been forgotten. Setting her away from him, fear clouded his eyes as he took in her appearance. Fingering the tattered frays of her bloody gown, she tried to offer him a reassuring smile, understanding how she must look. Tilting her chin, he ran a thumb across the swelling gash at the corner of her mouth while eyeing the fingermark bruises around her throat. "Aid?" His green eyes peered into hers, searching for answers to questions there was no time to ask.

"I'm all right," she reassured him with a weak smile, resting a shaky hand over his.

"Ser Gilmore, have you seen my husband?" her mother asked, coming up behind Aideen.

"Yes, your Ladyship. He and Duncan took a bunch of servants to the secret passage in the larder," he paused, distracted by a commotion at the doors. "Aid..." he turned back, an earnest expression in his eyes. "You need to go!"

As Aideen looked at the other faces in the room, she realized Rory was the only senior knight left, and now responsible for the men who remained. This was a last stand. A death sentence... buying others time to make their escape. "Come with us," she begged, pressing a hand to the scarred surface of his breastplate, the steel cool against her flushed skin.

A pained expression pinched hard lines into the contour of his face. "I'm needed here right now. Please Aid... go find your father and get out of here. The barricade won't hold for much longer."

"He's right Aideen! We need to go." Her mother's tone mirrored the urgency in Rory's eyes.

"No!" she cried, locking desperate eyes with Rory's, she compelled him to listen. "You _have_ to come with us!"

"Come, Aideen! We _must_ find your father." Eleanor ran for an archway that lead to the kitchen, apprehension plaguing her features.

Aideen turned back to Rory. "_Come_ with me!" she begged.

"Aid... _please_, your mother will be distraught when she discovers you didn't follow her. She needs you," he replied, eyes imploring, but she planted her feet and thrust her chin out in rebellion.

Placing a battered hand on his chest, she stared up at him with longing. "_I _need _you! _Leaving you behind would be like leaving a piece of myself. I _love_ you, Rory! You _have_ to come with me."

He hesitated for a moment, seeming to struggle with himself. "I can't leave the men, Aid. But as soon as we've given you and your family enough time to escape, I'll get a horse from the servants' stable by the main beach access and meet you."

"You will?" she asked, her tone doubtful.

"Yes," he responded more quickly now. "Now go and I'll meet you at the secret passage exit."

"No!" she replied. "I'll come with you. Howe knows of the main beach access! It's better if we stick together."

Running his hands up her arms, he worked his thumbs in slow circles a trick he'd learned when they were children and she needed calming. "You need to find your parents and get to the beach. Trust me. The barricade won't hold long, but long enough. Howe's men don't know this castle like I do. I'll be fine."

She stared him down for a moment, knowing there was truth to his words. Castle Highever _was_ formidable. Crowning the cliffs along the Waking Sea, it had only one entrance to the south and two access points to the beach far below. But her heart plummeted at the idea of Rory getting caught using the main beach access. Howe's men could already have it blocked off.

Pacing, she kneaded the tension in her shoulders and rolled out her neck. A few heartbeats later, she halted in front of Gilmore and laced her fingers behind his head, pulling his brow down to meet hers. "Promise me," she whispered.

Digging his fingers into her hair, he tilted her head back and kissed her. "I promise," he murmured against her lips.

* * *

She hurried through the corridors, sneaking through rooms and using secret doors until she entered the larder. The small space was no longer filled with the usual sweet aroma of savory foods, and she gagged as the putrid stench of carnage beset her nostrils.

"Mother!" she choked, squinting into the darkness illuminated only by an oil lamp next to the door. "Father?"

A muffled cry sounded across the room. Not waiting for her eyes to adapt, she tiptoed deeper into the dank room until her bare foot descended on something fleshy and damp. Sucking in a deep breath, she closed her eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dim light before looking down at the object beneath her foot. The iciness of realization slithered through her, dark and ugly as she saw the fingers of a hand she knew well. A gnarled hand that had cared for and guided her through her early years. Aideen hung her head, the sting of bitter tears filling her eyes as she tried to block the sight of Nan's bloody form lying beneath her.

A dark shape emerged from the blackness on the far side of the room. Aideen jumped back as the glint of a bloody longsword caught in the faint light. Heart pounding against her ribcage in terror, she crouched behind a barrel of potatoes. As the shadowed face moved into the light, Aideen sagged with relief - it was only the Warden, Duncan. She eased out from behind the barrel, fully taking in the casualties around her. Beyond Nan, a trail of bodies littered the floor, servants her father had tried to save and behind them, a small pile of Howe's men rested near Duncan's feet.

"Duncan... my parents?" she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Back here, m'lady." Duncan inclined his head, nodding toward the back of the room, near the entrance to the tunnels intended for their escape. He offered her a hand, helping her make her way through the collection of bodies. Nearing the shape of her mother leaning over the prostrate form of her father, Duncan caught her elbow and halted her approach. "M'lady! Your father... it's not good, I'm afraid," he warned.

Aideen peered into the stern, weathered face towering above her. Concern drew Duncan's brows together, a deep compassion radiating in his eyes. A heavy weight settled over her heart as she grasped what he was saying. "Is he..." She swallowed hard.

"No... not yet."

As they drew near, Aideen moved to her mother's side and placed a shaky hand on her shoulder.

"There... you are. I was..." Her father's body lurched as a fit of coughing wracked his body and she cringed at the rattle of fluid gurgling in his lungs.

"Bryce!" her mother cried as she tried to hold him still. "We need to get you out of here."

Her father traced an unsteady finger along the contour of her mother's face, love radiating from his eyes. "I... I won't survive the standing, my love."

"Bryce, no! The hidden passage is right here! We can flee together, find you healing magic!" She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her cheek. "Once Howe's men break into the inner ward, they will find us! We must go!" Eleanor pulled Aideen to her side with her other hand, her face etched with fear.

"I... cannot make it. Howe's men... have the castle surrounded from the south." Aideen smoothed a hand over her father's shoulder as another fit of coughing took over. "Someone... must reach Fergus... tell him what has happened." Her father collapsed back on the worn wooden floor, his breath catching in ragged rasps as his eyes pinched shut with pain.

"I'm afraid the teyrn is correct." Duncan stepped forward, a sense of urgency in his tone. "Howe's men have not yet discovered this exit, but they've surrounded the castle and it won't take them long to storm the beach when they realize you've escaped. Getting past will be difficult."

"Duncan..." Bryce grimaced as he pushed up on one elbow and inclined his head to look at the Warden commander. "I beg you... take my wife and daughter to safety!"

"No Bryce! I won't leave you. Aideen, go with Duncan!"

"El-" Her father fell back on the floor, closing his eyes and shaking his head with frustration. "Eleanor... please."

"I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door! Try to buy them some time." Eleanor glared at the larder entry, her features twisting with determination as she lifted her husband's hand and squeezed it to her chest. "My place is here with you, my love." She caressed a hand across his forehead, smoothing away the worry lines. "We stay together," she whispered with emotion.

"Then, I'll stay too!" Aideen shifted behind her father and lifted his head onto her knees. "Mother and I... we can defend you." Looking down at her trembling bloodstained hands, she realized the words sounded silly, even to her ears. She wanted to be strong for her parents, but deep down she knew staying meant death and it frightened her. She bit her lip and tried to push the fear away. She wouldn't cry! She mustn't! Her parents needed her to be strong.

Eleanor shared a look with Bryce before reaching out and squeezing Aideen's hand. "So we can all die? Go with Duncan, sweetheart. Find Fergus... bring justice to Howe for what he's done."

Aideen opened her mouth to respond but her mother turned to Duncan and spoke first. "Duncan, please help our daughter."

"I will, your Ladyship." Taking a deep breath, Duncan knelt next to her father and placed a hand on his shoulder. "But... I fear I must ask for something in return."

"Anything!" Her father stared up at Duncan, hope radiating in his eyes.

"What is happening here pales in comparison to the evil now loose in this world. Justice will matter little if we don't save Ferelden. I came to your castle seeking a recruit." Duncan turned to Eleanor. "Do we know if Ser Gilmore has survived? I must locate him first or make your daughter his replacement."

"I..." she faltered, her eyes falling to meet with Bryce's in concern.

Bryce tried to respond, blood now trickling from his mouth with each rasping breath. "Duncan... she-"

"Her training _is_ extensive!" Eleanor cut him off, laying a hand on his chest, encouraging him to save his strength. "But, she's not experienced... not like Ser Gilmore!"

"I understand, but her skills would be valuable in the Grey Wardens and she fought her way to me through Howe's men." He turned his gaze on Aideen and she felt herself shrink back from the intensity of it.

The tension in the small room threatened to smother Aideen, her fear and the already deep sense of loss almost more than she could handle. She fought her growing despair, feeling the warmth of life seep from her father's body. Positive outcomes were lost in the dark reality lying before her, and she felt herself spiral deeper into a never-ending sense of hopelessness.

She grit her teeth. "And what about _me_? Doesn't it matter what I want?" She glared at Duncan, fists clenching into tight balls. "_I_ do not consent to this!"

"I understand m'lady, but I think the Maker's intention is clear." Duncan stood and held out a hand. "I offer you a place in the Grey Wardens. Fight with us!"

She shuddered as images of all the death she'd seen and been a part of in the last few hours flooded her mind. Her stomach twisted at the thought of a life where she could be exposed to such horrors, day in and day out.

"Aideen..." Her father said, breaking off as a spasm shook his frame. "You must... get to Fergus! Give him... my sword." Eleanor reached out, steadying him as he struggled to lift the family blade. "My legacy... rests... with you now. _Live_... honor us... and... carry us in your... your heart." Her father's voice weakened, but carried tremendous weight.

Aideen cradled her father's head, tears melting their surroundings as her vision blurred. She swept the greying hair matted against his clammy skin back and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead.

Lifting Bryce's head from Aideen's lap, her mother shifted and gathered her into a hug. "We love you sweetheart. We can't avoid this fate, but yours can be different," she sniffled. "Hurry! You must go with Duncan. I'll hold them off as long as I can!"

"I'll barricade the door!" Duncan hefted a barrel before the larder entrance, adding "Hopefully that will buy us all a little more time."

As Duncan piled more goods before the entryway, Aideen clung to her mother, unable to bear the gnawing pain of guilt in her gut. How could she leave them behind? She wondered if she was being punished. After the way she'd acted at the Battlefeast and her childish decision to run away, she couldn't help feeling like she was losing what she'd taken so for granted. With each passing moment she grew more and more detached from her surroundings, surrendering to numbness, focusing only on her mother's embrace and refusing to let go.

"Take this!" Her mother urged, picking up the family sword and placing it in her arms. "This _must not_ fall into Howe's hands!" Her hold was firm, but her jaw trembled as she tipped Aideen's chin and looked into her eyes. "Give it to your brother, and... be gentle... when you tell him about Oren and Oriana."

Strong fingers took hold of her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. Sinking into oblivion, she missed most of Duncan's words as he led her away from her parents and towards the hidden door that would take them deep into a network of tunnels, providing access to the beach far below. "...to tell Fergus and the king what happened. Then, she will join the Grey Wardens."

The last of Duncan's words unhinging the door protecting her reserve of strength, her legs buckled as she gave into the darkness of her despair. To think, in moments of delusion she'd actually dreamt of such a destiny... but never at such a price. _Maker! _her mind screamed, maundering and desperate. _Help me!_

She held tight to the possibility that Rory had survived and would show up on the beach, and they would navigate life as Grey Wardens together, but even that hope slipped away as her tally of loss grew with each passing second.

Her mother's cry tore into her thoughts and Aideen's head snapped up, watching as her mother collapsed on her father's chest, her body shaking as she wept. "No!" she whimpered, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. _He's gone, _she realized.

A strained cry forced past her lips as she pushed back to her feet and fought Duncan, filled with a desperate need to go back and protect the one family member she knew she had left.

Overpowering her, Duncan clamped a battle roughened hand over her mouth as the clatter of hobnailed boots and clanking armor sounded behind the larder door. She felt the rumble of his gruff voice in her ear, telling her to be silent as he all but carried her into the underground tunnel.

Her eyes widened with panic, unblinking as the hidden passage's hatch slipped shut and forever separated her from her mother's doomed fate.

Despite her weakened spirit, a deep seeded hatred for Howe sparked and swelled into a blazing fury. This night was not the end... not even close. Her grief might only be beginning, but her retribution would be never-ending.


End file.
